When diplomacy fails......

Imperial Cairn, Province of Anuire, Fall of 1583 HC, Erntenir

It was a cold day.

The Senate room of the Imperial Cairn was alive with anger. It was empty, for all but two.

 An Imperial diplomat had entered the room, with defiant posture, and demanded that Boeruine would be held accountable for breaking the Treaty set forth at the end of The Reign War, the treaty of High Pass.
"Boeruine was the one who broke the Treaty, not the Empire, yet you declare us the oath-breakers?" The Diplomat screamed.

"Your Empire is a plague, to come and take us all into its grasp. I will not allow it."

"How dare you accuse us of such crimes! The Empire is a beacon of justice, law and civilization." The Diplomat retorted. Ansen laughed. It was not a jolly laugh, or even a maniacal one. It was a bitter laugh.

"You are as hypocritical as you are power hungry, Imperial." he said.

"Enough! The sole purpose of this visit is for one thing.
You must return the lands that Boeruine has stolen, or the Might of the Empire will be upon you!" The Diplomat said
"So, my choices are die young, or die old, bitter at how I could've stopped the Empire. When Seaharrow is burned, its walls destroyed, am I to remember this day? The day to give up?" Ansen asked.

The Diplomat remained silent.

"I thought as much. I cannot allow Imperial aggression to take away what Boeruineans had bled to hold in their power. Here, within your senate, I declare that your Empire shall expand no more, Imperial. You and your 'Coalition'." Ansen proclaimed.

"Then War is upon you, Ansen Caldwel, and the sons of Boeruine will pay the price of this war. The Emperor will sow your fields with salt, and will burn Seaharrow to the ground! We will destroy you so greatly, that no one shall know it ever existed."

"Then may Haelyn may protect you, Imperial. For our Archduke is upon you."

The Diplomat exited the room, fuming with anger.

Ansen Caldwel, right hand of Archduke Boeruine turned, and smiled.

"It will be a good War. A Decisive one, at the least."

Former Duchy of Brosengae, city of Bindier, Fall of 1583 HC, Ernternir,


Two weeks later

"I am telling you Edric, it can't be done! It's impossible!" Ansen proclaimed.

"Then I will make it possible." Edric said, with a short sigh of relief coming out of his lungs.

Ansen could not muster a response. Edric's pure, unadulterated, perseverance always managed to awe him. Edric was not the sort of person to abide by at a disadvantage, he would change the game. That is why Ansen admired the Archduke, and had not immediately labelled him insane for his plan.

He wanted to cross the Seamist.

"Ansen, when have I ever given you cause to doubt me?" Edric pleaded.

"Never, my Archduke, never! But I cannot imagine this happening, not in a million years!" Lord Ansen Caldwel exclaimed.

"I am not asking for your advice. I am asking for your co-operation, and only because you are my most trusted advisor. I am your liege, and you will join me on my campaign. I would prefer it that you come willingly, however." Edric commanded.

"Very well then, my Lord. I... shall muster the troops." Ansen stuttered.
Ansen left the room, while Edric watched his every move. The young Archduke felt excited. For the first time in a long time, Edric felt alive.

“I am going to conquer Avanil”, Edric spoke his thoughts loudly.

It was a slightly an ironic statement, as the large majority of his army was comprised now of Taeghian, Mhieran and Brosen mercenaries.

They all felt the same though, it was the banners of Boeruine that made the come together. That was why they could win. Not because he could command armies with masterful strategy, but because he could inspire the army to want, no, desire to do his bid, and that was why he would win.